A Working Day
by Dark Ice Dragon
Summary: ·Pre PoA· Everyone knows that Remus has a 'monthly problem'. There's a problem when this can be... misinterpreted as something else. As well as Remus’ other quirks. ·OC PoV· ·Collection of thoughts·
1. Observations

:3 This idea came to ma just a couple of days ago. Thanks to some prodding from Lucathia Rykatu, I actually got around to writing it. The parts aren't really connected apart from the two characters. They're in chronological order but there can spaces from days to months between the fic breaks.

This is set at least pre-Prisoner of Azkaban.

* * *

**A Working Day**

By Dark Ice Dragon**  
**

Observations

* * *

Claire looked up from the counter at the faint sound of jingling. The door closed quietly and she smiled at the person shaking extra droplets free from his coat. 

"Extremely soggy this morning, isn't it Remus?"

Remus glanced up from his task, a small smile on his lips at the question. "Quite."

It had been raining on and off for the last couple of days and some time during the night, it had had turned into a very heavy downpour. Remus' hair was plastered to his scalp, not one hair left dry from the drenching. His threadbare clothes were completely soaked through from his coat right down to his shoes. She wouldn't be surprised if whatever was underneath his coat was wet as well, as the coat wasn't waterproof. Remus' face had a sheen from where the water clung onto the skin.

All in all, he looked like he had just climbed out of river.

Claire shook her head. She didn't know why Remus never used up an umbrella but seeing as Remus' clothes weren't usually new, it was probably because he couldn't afford one. _'He must be usin' all the money he earns on his rent,'_ she thought.

Remus didn't talk about himself very much. No mention of family, friends or what he did when he wasn't working. Or he might be working somewhere else during the nights as well as here during the daytime.

"I've put some towels on the radiator in the back a little while ago," Claire said out loud. "They should be warmed up enough now. Go dry yourself," she ordered.

Remus looked at her in surprise. She _hated_ that look. That look said, 'You're helping _me?_ Why?' What had happened to him before that made him wonder when she went a little bit out of her way to help him that he found it so unexpected? It was like he expected her to hate him or something.

"Thank you." Remus moved as quietly as he could (not that he needed to with the rain pounding on the windows. But maybe he was trying to reduce the amount of squelching his shoes were making) to the backroom.

Claire stretched. It was going to a long day. Who would go out to buy books on a day like this?

:-:-:

Claire looked out the corner of her eye. Remus had his back to her while he was stacking some books on the shelves.

There. He did it again.

He was rubbing his stomach every so often when he thought that she wasn't looking.

It wasn't the 'I'm hungry' kind of rubbing – there was too much force behind the hand. And they had both just come back from lunch, each having sandwiches. It was the kind where you applied pressure to a painful part of your body. Claire frowned thoughtfully. But why…?

Maybe he had gotten into a fight.

It didn't suit the picture that she had of the mild-mannered man. But the alternative was worse.

:-:-:

Remus looked up at her blearily. Claire had followed him into the backroom that morning. She found him tiredly slumped in one of the chairs. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

"No. You're not," Claire said sternly. He looked a mess! There were heavy bags underneath his eyes and there was something… off about him today other than how he was. She took one of his clenched hands that was laying on top of his lap, forced it open through sheer will and placed two pills in his now open palm.

He looked down at them confusion.

"Painkillers," was the short answer. "You either take 'em or you go straight back home."

"But-"

"No," she said again, firmly. "You're not feelin' well. Why didn't you just phone me and take the day off?" she asked him.

Remus shrugged. "I didn't want to leave you looking after the shop by yourself."

Despite herself and the current situation, Claire smiled in amusement. "I was able to look after the shop before you came along. Remember?"

"Which is why you had a help ad in your window," was the quick reply.

Claire's smile widened. "Now I _know_ you need to go to bed; you're showin' a side that I haven't seen before. Come on now, shoo!" She made motions with her hands as Remus watched, a small smile also growing on his face. Seeing that he wasn't budging, Claire sighed. "I'm not goin' to fire you 'cause you were off for one day."

And That Look returned before Remus bowed his head to the floor. Without another word, Remus downed the two pills and sipped from the glass of water that Claire had left on the floor when she was opening Remus' hand. He took both without much thought of how it tasted and they went straight down.

The hand that had been left, dipped into his coat pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar.

Claire eyed the size. It wasn't quite family-sized but it was still on the big side. "I didn't know you had such a sweet tooth."

Remus' small smile turned into a grin.

:-:-:

"Remus, what's wrong?"

Remus' body tensed at Claire's voice. "Nothing. There's nothing wrong," he assured her.

"Right," she said wryly. "That's why you've been jumpin' at shadows all of today."

He didn't respond, save for fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt.

"You're worried about that wolf sighting, aren't you?" There had been a wolf sighting in the papers that morning – no pictures, but it was still reported. People were already beginning to think that their pets and young children were going to be eaten.

Just then, the bell above the door jingled. Claire looked over and saw that it was Mrs. Yeoman with her Skye Terrier, Douglas. Customers were supposed to leave their dogs outside –it _was_ a bookstore- but Douglas had been so well-trained (and cute!) that he could be let in.

Remus stiffened again. "I forgot something in the backroom," he mumbled before disappearing.

Claire followed him with her eyes but didn't move to stop him.

She couldn't force him to be around dogs when he was scared of them, could she?

:-:-:

Remus sneezed as soon as he entered the shop. And sneezed again.

Claire looked at him in worry. "Do you have allergies?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not really – just a sensitive nose."

She looked at the spray-can underneath the counter. "Oh. I was just tryin' a new air spray."

Remus waved a hand, somehow knowing that Claire was going to get rid of the can. "Don't get rid of it; I'll get used to it after a while."

He sneezed for a third time.

:-:-:

Claire waited by the telephone, knowing that it was going to ring sooner of later. While waiting, she doodled on a scrap piece of paper that she had found lying about.

Remus was never late. Even through the harshest storms, he would make it on time. The exception was once a month. She had noticed the pattern after a few months of him working under her. Every once a month, Remus would call in sick. She even knew the signs that he'd be showing before he called in sick: he'd be jumpy, a bit more stressed and weary. When he came back, he'd be immensely tired, always be wincing ever so slightly from even being touched and he always ate chocolate. It wasn't a brand that Claire knew of or knowingly tasted but it was always the same brand.

But as she doodled, Claire realised _why_ that sounded so familiar. It wasn't something entirely medical as she had thought. She'd heard it because she's seen it happening with her friends. Particularly, her female friends.

_'Why,'_ she wondered, _'would she pretend to be a guy?'_ There were a few advantages that she could think of: if you were a guy, you would receive less trouble if, say, you were out at night, and looking at 'him', she could have been teased mercilessly by the other girls in her class because of her looks.

The phone rang by her elbow.

Just before she picked it up, she resolved to go and buy Remus a really big chocolate bar for him tomorrow.

* * *

(Grumble) It's a heckofalot easier to write one-shots than multi-chapters. Saying that, I want to continue this fic. It probably won't be for a while though so it's staying as Completed for now. Just may as well say it now, there won't be any romance between the two of them. 

I can't remember if Remus had said what he had been doing before becoming the Defence Against the Dark Arts but eh...

This was meant to be a humourous fic but eh, it didn't turn out completely like that.

And yeah, used some fandom clichés for some of these.

Hmm, if Remus can't get a job easily in the wizarding world, shouldn't it be easier to get a job in the Muggle world where there's no stigma about being a werewolf?

Any problems/spelling mistakes, anything like that, please tell me.


	2. Distraction

(grins) Well, I've finally started to continue this little fic - and it looks like it'll stay little considering the chapter length of this. Let's see how far I can actually go with this before I implode of wanting Claire to know.

:) So... the last chapter was kinda all over the place with bits of dialogue and scenes happening with days, weeks and/or days inbetween the scene changes. With this chapter, it's set on the day of last scene in the last chapter and the scene change here is only for a few hours.

_Aaaand_ I actually have a year for which this is set in: 1987. Because I was looking for when the full moon was and all that. Though the weather that I keep on mentioning, I don't know if that actually happened during that day. Oh, and this is during July.

* * *

**A Working Day**

By Dark Ice Dragon**  
**

Distractions

* * *

Claire shelved the books that some customers had been negligent to put back in to their proper place. Other than that, there was nothing else to do. It had started drizzling again; nothing too heavy but it was steady enough to be heard lightly on the windowpane. There was hardly anyone in the bookshop either – only two customers and they were both huddled around the romance section.

But seeing as it was a weekday, it wasn't anything to worry about. The shop was rather small but they still usually made profit and it was usually during the weekends that they made the most. She mused her last thought, her hand sliding the last book into it place. Well, she supposed, it _was_ 'they' now – not 'I' as it had been a few months before. She smiled at the thought. She'd hated it when she'd first stuck the help ad in the window; she was pleased that the little shop was gaining popularity but needing to ask for help… It felt like, by asking for help, that that the shop wouldn't be completely hers anymore once she had found help – even though she would still be the owner. It was stupid to feel that, she knew, but it still hadn't stopped her from feeling slightly possessive.

A gradual change in lighting distracted her from her thoughts, directing her attention instead to the windows. Sunlight was fighting its way through the gaps in the clouds, though it was still being hidden more times than not. Hmm, when had it stopped drizzling? She stared out the window for a few seconds before the muffled tread of someone walking to the counter reminded her that was still working.

She hurried over, absentmindedly making sure that her pen was still in her pocket out of habit. With Remus off that day and the rain away (not that it _really_ deterred anyone), it was going to get busier. But it was only for one day so she would be fine.

Claire smiled at the slightly flustered man as she slid behind the counter. "Can I help you?"

:-:-:

Surprisingly, the light spell actually stayed for a few hours. The forecasters had said that there was going to be constant showers of rain for the entire day until about seven at night. Claire shook her head and snorted a laugh. She couldn't believe that she'd believed it – everyone knew to take their forecasts with a grain of salt and there was hardly a day that they were completely _right_.

She was back to doodling on her scrap piece of paper again. There had been an article in the newspaper that morning -a light piece about a lost cat somehow finding its owners even though the owners had moved (after losing it) to the other side of the country after two years- and she was attempting to draw the black-and-white cat (thought that might have just been because of the newspaper printing in black and white) that was in the arms of its happy owner.

Her pen paused mid-stroke when she heard the bell above the door jingle. She quickly placed the papers under the desk, keeping the pen in her hand, and glanced up at the customer, a smile on her face. The customer at the door was a woman, rather aged by time, her black hair pulled into a tight bun. Her clothing was nearly completely the opposite from Mrs. Yeoman's – while Mrs. Yeoman dressed like the grandmother that she was, this woman reminded Claire entirely too much of one of her strict high school teachers.

Seeing Claire's (hopefully still) friendly expression, her stern appearance softened slightly. She walked over to the counter, not glancing at any of the shelves as she passed them by.

"Can I help you?" Claire asked her as she approached.

The woman nodded once. "I was hoping to take Remus off of your hands for a few minutes. I need to speak to him."

A little startled that she was being asked about Remus and not books, Claire replied, "Oh. He's not in today." But then again, it wasn't every day that someone asked for him.

"He's not?" The woman's eyebrows furrowed slightly behind her glasses, her eyes glancing around the room. "This is where he said he…" she trailed off. "What date is it today?" she asked suddenly.

"The date?" Claire repeated blankly. Her eyes flicked to the miniature calendar that was sitting in front of her. "Uh, it's the thirteenth."

The woman sighed quietly. "Of course," she muttered to herself. She returned her focus on to Claire. "Thank you for your time," she said with a nod. She turned to leave.

Claire stared at her back for two seconds, internally battling with herself. "Wait!" The woman turned again, looking at her over her glasses. Claire cringed under that look. _'Jeez._ Far _too much like my high school teachers.'_ She was having the distinct feeling that she was eleven again. "Who do I say came by?"

There was a small smile on the woman's lips, she was _sure_ of it. "Minerva." There was another jingle from the bell and Claire was left alone in the shop once more.

As she retrieved her papers from under the counter, Claire thought over what Minerva had said. If she knew what the dates meant when it came to Remus (though, to be _that_ accurate was a little strange. Maybe she was working on averages?) then she knew what Remus really was.

It was good that someone else did.

She turned back to the doodle, thinking that it was entirely too quiet in the shop. She made a small note in one of the corners about Minerva, just in case she forgot to tell Remus tomorrow. After that, the silence (bar from the ticking of the clock) was a bit too... She didn't have a word for it. Maybe she should bring in her old radio the next time Remus was off.

* * *

I'm wondering if I should change the genre to this. But I guess it'll all depend on what happens in the later chapters.

:) A little bit of background on Claire. Well, no, fleshing out. That's what I meant. (looks back at the chapter) Well, whatdeyaknow. I appear to have some romance hints in it or something. But that's not going to happen since my romance writing sucks.

A bit of an abrupt ending but I couldn't think of what else to say. Um, I don't know when the next update'll come. And that's all of my author notes I think.


	3. Post

:) Fast update. A sorta idunno, going away present before I go on holiday. I'll be leaving on Wednesday morning so I won't be answering reviews from Tuesday afterwards.

Yeah, I've now changed Claire a bit so that she speaks with a Scottish accent - hopefully it won't be too jarring.

* * *

**A Working Day**

By Dark Ice Dragon**  
**

Post

* * *

Claire muttered a curse under her breath as she missed putting the key into the keyhole. She shook her head to try and keep her hair out of her face but it wasn't any use – the wind blew it right back into her eyes. The second time, she was able to slot the key in and she turned it. 

Letting the door swing shut behind her, she manoeuvred around the room with practiced ease to the backroom. Putting down her bags, Claire shrugged off her coat and while she was hanging it up, she switched on the lights to the shop. Blinking under the glare, trying to see clearly again, Claire had the feeling that she had forgotten something.

_'Oh, right. The post.'_ She turned and left the backroom and headed towards the door. How had she missed it? She normally nearly stood on it as soon as she stepped in so that was her 'reminder'. _'Let's see…'_ she thought as she picked up the envelopes. _'Bill. Bill. Leaflet for Chinese takeout. Another bill? How many bills – Oh, hey, a pre-order.'_ She didn't normally get these through the post without an envelope – they were usually handed to her in person.

Claire was just placing the envelopes under the counter so she wouldn't lose them when she heard the bell jingle. "You're a little early aren't you?" she asked, amused, her head still hidden by the counter.

"I couldn't sleep." Claire wasn't sure but she thought that she heard a sheepish tone in the statement. "I thought a walk might clear my mind and give me something to do. I'm assuming that I cleared my mind too well seeing as I'm here. Do you mind? I could-"

Claire lifted her head over the counter to give Remus a flat look. She straightened up and then leaned on the tabletop on her elbows. "I'm not goin' to chuck you out just 'cause you're early." She started to head towards the backroom again. "I was goin' to give you something anyway," she called over her shoulder. Claire didn't have to turn back and glance at Remus to know that he was wearing That Look on his face. Getting to the backroom, she riffled through her bag to get at what she had bought. Behind her, she heard Remus taking off his coat and, assumedly, putting it on a hook. Claire found what she was looking for (not that it was hard) and handed it to Remus.

Remus stared at it, his eyebrows high. "What… Thank you but you didn't have to-"

She waved a hand dismissively. "It's a large bar of chocolate, Remus," Claire said, almost patronisingly. "It didn't cost much, and I didn't go trekkin' 'round the whole of the city to find it. Take it."

There was a light colouring on Remus' cheeks; Claire hoped her teasing hadn't gone too far, that she hadn't accidentally insulted his intelligence. "Why did you buy me it?" he asked, eyes going to her.

Claire shrugged in what she thought was a helpless one. "Whenever you're off, you have a bar of chocolate on you when you come back." She was not going to say that she knew – it would embarrass Remus too much and if he didn't want to tell her, well, it wasn't as if Claire could do anything about it.

Remus had a small smile on his lips as he looked down to the chocolate bar again. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Claire nearly rolled her eyes. "You said that already and you don't need to say it. You can eat it while we're sortin' everything else out." As if Remus would get crumbs or sticky fingerprints all over the books.

:-:-:

Claire sighed and played with the tip of her ponytail with one hand. She glanced around and nodded to herself in satisfaction. There had been someone in the shop who was obviously looking for a book – but they just never put the book back in the right place. That usually wasn't too hard to rectify, except for the fact that the books weren't near where it was supposed to be. Again, not that hard to put right. It was when they had tided half of them away that Remus noticed that one of the book jackets didn't match the actual book it was covering. Claire had started swearing at that point and continued to do so in her mind afterwards. The one good thing was that there weren't that many books in the shop that had jackets. But it still took a while to get through them all and it was past the time Claire and Remus normally left at the shop.

She went to the backroom to collect her coat and bag. "Thanks, Remus," she said gratefully as she put on her coat. "You didn't have to stay behind to help."

There was a small pause and when Claire had turned around, Remus had just stopped shaking his head. "I wasn't going to leave you to do all the work alone."

Claire smiled at him. "Mmm." Patting herself down to check that she had everything, Claire suddenly remembered the post that had arrived that morning. _'Whoops. I haven't even opened them yet.'_ Just leaving her bag on the hook, she went back into the main room. Her eyes were on the counter but then her eyes saw something flash white outside the window.

A little startled, Claire took a step towards the front to get a closer look but it was gone. _'What…?'_ She didn't have to wonder for long because the white whatever-it-was appeared next at the window in the door. Claire stared, her jaw hanging open with her mouth barely closed.

It was an owl. Hovering at the window, it scratched at the window with a foot. Dropping out of sight again, it reappeared at the right side window once more. There it stood on the windowsill and _looked_ at her, as if it was expecting her to let her in.

"Claire?" Remus' voice called quietly behind her. "What's wrong?"

She didn't turn around, thinking that if she did and she turned back to it, it would be gone. "There's an owl outside the window and I would swear that it's trying to get inside." _'Poor thing, it must be really confused.'_ But what was an owl doing this far in the city? Claire had never seen a live owl before, and if she had, it had probably been on some school trip years ago. And what was it doing up at this hour? The sun was still up. There wasn't anyone else on the street to see the owl because of the time and the shop was on a quiet street anyway.

"An owl?" Remus repeated faintly. Claire heard some shuffling behind her and somehow knew that Remus was looking over her head. "Ah. Excuse me," he murmured to her as he edged past.

The brunette watched as Remus walked up to the door. What was he going to do? What could anyone do? Claire had the thought of calling the SSPCA but that didn't make any sense seeing at the owl wasn't being mistreated. But it was the only organisation she could think of at the moment and even if she could think of the 'right' people to call, what could she say? 'Hi, there's an owl outside my shop and it's starin' at me' made her sound like she was paranoid. Only the fact that it was an owl and not, say, a pigeon would make it interesting to the person on the other side of the telephone. Not that she knew the number anyway. And the owl wasn't injured either since it was able to fly and hover at the window. So maybe it was just lost.

It was then that Claire realised what Remus was doing. "What're you-" It was a stupid question; it was obvious what he was about to do. She started to make her way towards him, wondering _why_.

There was a soft grating sound as the lock moved and then Remus opened the door. There was an instant beat of wings and Remus was holding up his arm to shield his face – but there was no cry of pain, no screech, no sound of flapping. And Claire was staring again, at Remus who had an owl perched on his arm like it was a normal thing to do.

Stroking its breast with a finger for a second, Remus then extracted the envelope that was in its talons. It fluffed up at the contact, obviously pleased.

"You – you use an owl as a _carrier pigeon?_" Claire's voice was laced with disbelief. Was that allowed? Did people normally keep owls as pets? But she thought that they were completely wild and weren't used like falcons were. And didn't falconers wear really thick gloves to make sure that their arms weren't ripped to pieces? She eyed the talons of the owl warily; Remus only had his coat for protection.

If Claire's thoughts hadn't been darting about the place, she would have noticed that Remus' eyes were flicking around nervously. The envelope had also been carefully placed into one of his pockets.

"One of my friends does." Here he hesitated, his fingers still stroking the owl.

One of his friends? With a flash of realisation and memory, Claire felt a little embarrassed for forgetting. What was her name again? Ah, damn, she was always bad with names. "Men – Minerva, right?" she said with a small frown, concentrating.

Remus glanced back at her in surprise. "How do you know Minerva?"

"She came in yesterday lookin' for you. I forgot about her afterwards and I meant to tell you that she came but…" Claire shrugged. _'Better late than never I s'pose.'_

There had been something in Remus' eyes, his entire stance that Claire couldn't put her finger on before it left. "She came in yesterday while I wasn't feeling well."

So it didn't really matter if she'd said that Minerva had come or not. Claire turned her attention back to the owl. Its head was starting to droop slightly and closing its eyes. It shifted a little, attempting to get comfortable or get a better grip on Remus' arm. Wasn't it a little tiring holding the bird like that? "Are you going to take-" _'Him? Her? It?'_ "-the owl home with you?" she asked.

"Yes," Remus answered, looking it in the eye. "He's travelled a long way to get here. He needs rest, food, and water before he should fly again."

Claire refrained from letting her curiosity get the better of her and asking more questions. If Remus had a friend who maybe sent letters by owl-post (a new definition of air-mail?) the friend would want their owl looked after well while it was with Remus, so he would obviously have the materials for looking after an owl.

With that little problem solved (for all the other problems that were there) Claire went back to the backroom to fetch her bag. "Do you need anything else from here?"

"No," was the reply.

Picking up her bag, Claire flicked the light switches and crossed half of the room before she remembered the post again. _'Why didn't I just put the damn things in my bag in the first place?'_ she thought, exasperated. But that would have been the _logical_ thing to do, wouldn't it?

Remus was waiting outside for her, not looking like the weight of the bird was straining him. He waited until Claire had finished locking up the shop before saying goodbye and leaving. They both lived in the opposite direction from each other and Claire hoped that Remus wouldn't have too far to walk to get home.

As she was walking home, Claire realised what it was that had been nagging at her at the back of her mind for a few minutes. Some five or six years ago –had it really been that long?- a little after she had first bought the shop premises, that phenomenon with the mobs of owls flying all around the UK and the shooting stars arcing across the sky had happened. Claire had been inside at the time and hadn't seen anything but it was in the news for a while but there had been no explanation for it.

Whimsically, Claire glanced up at the still light sky. No owls, no shooting stars, nothing out of the ordinary. Just greying clouds that drifted slowly above her head. Hmph, as if something strange would happen in her average life. She continued to walk home, looking where she was going.

It was only until she had opened the door to her home that a stray thought made her pause in her actions. If the owl was being used as some sort of carrier pigeon and was being used to send messages to Remus, it should have gone to Remus' house. How had it found Remus at the bookshop?

* * *

Don't you just love dramatic irony?

>3 Remus hardly needs to lie seeing as Claire jumps to conclusions and fills things in herself.

SSPCA is the shorthand for Scottish Society for Protection of Cruelty to Animals.

The owl isn't Hedwig. I couldn't really think of a natural colour of an that would grab Claire's attention without dyeing it pink or something and then Claire _would_ be searching for the SSPCA number.

Hee. Air-mail. Though it was already that with carrier pigeons. XD

I did some searching on wiki about carrier pigeons (on paper, I'd kept on spelling it pidgeons for some _strange _reason. -coughpokemoncough-) and that talked about the pigeons carried thin tiny paper. In Harry Potter land, you've got owls carrying envelopes, each other and _broomsticks_. OO Poor Pig.

Any problems/spelling mistakes, anything like that, please tell me.


End file.
